


Hit Me With Your Best Shot

by SerotoninShift



Series: The Most Exciting Thing I'd Ever Known [9]
Category: Motorcity (Cartoon)
Genre: Anal Sex, Arguably not the best BDSM etiquette, BDSM, But they're learning, Established Relationship, Handcuffs, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-19 12:07:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20656982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerotoninShift/pseuds/SerotoninShift
Summary: Chuck has a creative teaching style.





	Hit Me With Your Best Shot

**Author's Note:**

> Before I put another notch in my lipstick case  
You better make sure you put me in my place  
Hit me with your best shot  
C'mon, hit me with your best shot  
~Pat Benetar

“Well, maybe if you weren’t so _ reckless…” _

“I _ got _the bots, didn’t I?”

“You almost _ died…” _

“Kane’s trying to _ kill _ us, dude, we almost die like _ every day, _ and anyway I did _ not, _ I totally had it under control…”

Mike’s half expecting it when Chuck grabs his shoulder and spins him around, then fists a hand in his shirt, pushing him up against the wall.

“Mike,” Chuck says, voice tight with tension, “do we need to take this upstairs?”

Mike swallows. Then he narrows his eyes. “Do your _ worst,_” he says challengingly.

Chuck leans down and hisses in his ear, _ “Go_. When I get up there, I expect you naked on my bed, on your back. If you’re not, there will be hell. To. Pay. Do you understand me?”

“Bring it,” Mike says, shaking him off. They glare at each other for a long moment before Mike turns on his heel, heading for the stairs. He feels Chuck’s eyes burning into his back, doesn’t turn around.

He stomps up to Chuck’s room, takes his jacket off, throws it into the corner. He kicks his shoes off vengefully. Just to be a dick, he leaves the rest of his clothes on and flops down on Chuck’s bed.

It takes Chuck a while to come upstairs, and Mike is restless and even more pissed off from waiting when he finally comes in, shutting and locking the door behind him. He turns to Mike.

Chuck looks him over; fully clothed, on the bed, fingers laced behind his head.

“This,” he says, narrowing his eyes, “is not what I told you to do.”

“So?” Mike says, sulky. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Chuck moves faster than Mike expected. In two quick strides he’s next to the bed, grabbing the neck of Mike’s shirt in both hands, and then he just _ rips _ it in half straight down the middle. Mike always forgets how _ strong _ Chuck’s bioware arm is. His breath catches. Chuck pulls the torn shirt open and tangles it around Mike’s arms, catching his wrists in the sleeves, jerking his arms up over his head. Then he climbs onto the bed and kneels on Mike’s arms, practically sitting on his face, and not in a sexy way. “Agh,” Mike says, struggling, as Chuck reaches into his bedside filing cabinet and gets something out, then grabs Mike’s wrist and snaps the thing onto it. It’s the cuffs, Chuck is cuffing him. He pulls Mike’s arm up to the headboard, threads the cuffs through, grabs Mike’s other arm and wrestles it into position, snaps the other cuff around his wrist. The remnants of Mike’s shirt are still hanging off his arms. Chuck gets off him, breathing hard, and stands up again, looking down at him, eyes hooded and unreadable. Mike jerks his arms against the cuffs, thrashes around a little, then glares at him.

“Oooooh, I’m real scared,” he says. “What are you gonna do now, spank me? _ That’s _creative. I’m sure I’ll learn my lesson.”

“You,” Chuck says, glaring, “are really getting on my last nerve today.” Then he taps his lip. He’s thinking. Uh oh. Mike feels the first stirrings of nervousness.

“No. You’re not getting spanked,” he says. “You _ like _ that too much.” 

Oh. Dang. Mike might have really gotten himself in trouble here. Chuck looks at him thoughtfully for a long moment. Then, to Mike’s surprise, instead of doing anything to him, Chuck walks over to his desk, rummages under a pile of printouts, and gets out a book.

He pulls his desk chair over to the side of the bed, sits down casually, kicks his shoes off, puts his feet up on the bed near Mike’s hip, and opens the book. Mike can see the cover from where he’s lying.

“The Art of Domination: A Beginner’s Guide.” Mike blushes. _ Huh.  
_

The book looks brand-new, but it’s already extensively dog-eared. Chuck flips through it until he finds the page he wants.

He clears his throat. “‘Discipline,’” he reads primly, “‘is an important part of many Dom/sub relationships.’”

“Oh, man, seriously?” Mike says. “You’re going to _ read _to me?” Chuck ignores him.

“The Dom disciplines the sub to discourage unacceptable conduct,’” he continues. “‘The main goal of any punishment is for the sub to learn from it. Therefore, a sub should always know why they are being punished.’ So, Mikey,” Chuck looks up from the book. “Why am I punishing you?”

Mike shifts, restless. “You’re not even _ doing _ anything, you’re just…” Chuck lifts one long leg, stretches it out, and presses the heel of his foot into Mike’s crotch.

“Mike,” he says coolly, grinding his heel into Mike’s crotch a little, “answer the question.”

Mike twitches up into the touch, rough as it is. “Hff, because I…” he starts, has to take a breath. Then he narrows his eyes. “No, you know what, _ screw _ you.”

Chuck leaves his foot where it is, flips a few pages.

“‘Deliberate provocation,’” Chuck reads, “‘is a part of some dynamics, where one partner purposefully misbehaves in order to elicit the punishment they crave.’” He looks up at Mike. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know what you did. You’re being a dick. You want to get punished for something. So tell me why I’m punishing you.”

_ Shit. _ Chuck is too smart. Mike pulls against the cuffs. He almost wants Chuck to just get really mad, to take it out on him in some way that will drive everything out of his head; this is worse, this is _ real. _ This is Chuck getting _ in _ his head and _ knowing _him in a way that feels more uncomfortable than blows. Chuck’s heel presses down on him and he surrenders, just a little.

“You’re punishing me… because I’m an idiot.”

“Be more specific,” Chuck says, pressing down harder.

“Because I…” Mike writhes a little, bucking up into Chuck’s heel. “Because I jumped off a building… onto a bot…”

“You did. But was that really the problem? You do dumb shit like that all the time.”

“I didn’t tell you I was gonna do it,” Mike admits.

“Good. You feel guilty about not telling me. So why didn’t you?”

“If I’d told you first…” Mike starts, bites his tongue.

“What,” Chuck says.

“Would you have told me not to? That bot might have got Dutch!”

Chuck sighs. “You gotta trust me to back you up, Mikey, even if I think what you’re doing is totally stupid. And even if I _ had _ told you not to do it, would you have listened?”

“Prolly not,” Mike admits.

“So what should you have done?”

“Told you.” Mike looks away, ashamed. He hadn’t wanted to get in a fight about it, hadn’t wanted Chuck’s input… but they’re a _ team. _Chuck deserves better.

“Good,” Chuck says. And Mike feels the shame lift a little. He can make up for it. Whatever Chuck has in store for him, whatever Chuck wants to do to him, he can take it. He _ wants _it.

He just kind of wishes Chuck would get on with it.

Chuck lifts his foot off Mike’s crotch, puts it back on the edge of the bed.

“Okay,” he says. “Now that we’ve got the _ why _out of the way, let’s move on to methodology.”

Mike pulls against the cuffs, thrashing around again. _ “Seriously?” _ he says.

“‘Discipline can take many forms,’” Chuck reads, unperturbed, “‘and should be negotiated in advance so both parties know what is acceptable. Common disciplinary measures include spanking, nipple clamps, flogging, or other physical punishments, but for a masochistic sub,’” at this Chuck looks at Mike over the book and raises his eyebrows, “‘the Dom may have to get more _ creative. _ Punishments for someone who _ enjoys _ pain could include not giving the sub attention for a set amount of time, not allowing them to speak, making them do chores or other tasks they don’t enjoy, or denying or delaying orgasm.’”

Mike furrows his brow. Chuck closes the book, marking his place with a finger.

“What do you think, Mikey?” he says, smiling wickedly. “I think that last one sounds like fun. For _ me._” Mike swallows.

“Can’t you just spank me?” he says. Chuck raises his eyebrows.

“I thought that wasn’t _ creative _enough for you. You don’t think you can handle it?”

Mike sets his jaw. “I didn’t say that. You know I can handle it.”

“Yeah,” Chuck says, more seriously, “and I know you like to prove it. But if I just push you around, that’s easy for you, that doesn’t prove _ anything. _ I want you to really learn a lesson. You think you can do that for me?”

Trust Chuck to figure out a way to _ actually _punish him. Mike considers this for a moment. Then he says, determined, “Yeah. I can do it for you.”

“Good,” Chuck says. Then he taps his lip again, smiling a little. “But in the meantime, you’ve been so _ insubordinate _ that I think I’m justified in being a little mean to you, don’t you think?”

_ Finally. _Mike nods.

“Let’s see what we should start with.” Chuck swings his legs off the bed, leans down, and rummages underneath it. He comes back up with a box, sets it on the edge of the bed.

“Do you want these—” He reaches into the box, pulls out a pair of wicked-looking little clamps connected by a chain—“or do you want this?” He casually pulls out a buttplug.

Mike eyes the options, then squares his shoulders.

“What makes you think I can’t handle them both?” he says defiantly.

_ “Wow,” _ Chuck says. “You must think you _ really _ fucked up. Pick one.”

“But I…”

“Pick. One,” Chuck says, low and dangerous.

“That.” Mike gestures with his chin at the plug. Chuck puts the nipple clamps back in the box, puts the box away. He sets the plug on the bed, stands up, and, almost business-like, starts unfastening Mike’s pants.

Mike’s already half-hard with mingled dread and anticipation. Chuck tugs Mike’s pants off, then his underwear, until he’s completely naked except for the torn shirt still hanging from his wrists. He’s been naked in front of Chuck a lot, but this time, as Chuck regards him, it makes a thrill of nervousness coil in his stomach. He feels very exposed as Chuck’s eyes rake over his legs, his half-hard dick, his chest, and then come to rest on his face. Mike can’t quite meet Chuck’s eyes.

“Spread your legs,” Chuck says. Mike does, letting his knees fall open to the sides.

“Nice,” Chuck says. He gets the lube bottle, squeezes out a generous amount, picks up the plug, and slicks it up. Then he climbs onto the bed and kneels between Mike’s spread legs. He positions the plug and eases the short, tapered length of it into Mike slowly, letting him get used to it. When it’s seated all the way to the base, Chuck sits back on his heels.

“How’s that feel?” he asks. Mike considers. It’s stretching him open, but not uncomfortably so.

“Good,” Mike says. Chuck tugs lightly on the base of the plug, making Mike squirm.

“Alright,” Chuck says, and smiles at Mike in a way that makes him extremely nervous. “Let’s see how you like this.” And he slicks up his other hand with lube and wraps it around Mike’s dick—starts jacking him off fast and merciless, pulling a little on the plug with every other stroke, not enough to move it, just enough to make Mike _ really _aware of its presence.

“Nnnnn!” Mike gasps, throwing his head back. “Ah! I like that… I like that just… fine… that’s good, that’s… oooh god, please, _ please… _”

“Nice,” Chuck says again, wicked smile back in full force. “I like when you beg for me. Let’s see if I can make you really mean it.” And Chuck leans over and _ bites _him on the inside of the thigh. Mike yelps. Chuck runs his tongue over the tender spot he just bit, kisses it, and Mike shivers, jerking his hips up into Chuck’s hand. Without slowing his hand, Chuck licks and nibbles Mike’s inner thigh. Mike keeps expecting him to bite hard again, but he doesn’t, and doesn’t stop moving his hand on Mike’s dick or teasing his ass with the plug.

It doesn’t take long for Mike to feel the building pressure of an approaching orgasm. “C’mon, c’mon,” he pants, “_god_, please, that feels so _ good…_”

Chuck lifts his head from where he’s scraping his teeth against Mike’s thigh.

“Yeah?” he says. “You look so good like this. I could do whatever I wanted to you right now and you’d let me, wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah, dude, yeah, please, I’m gonna come...” He’s quivering, every muscle tense.

“I’d like to see that. But remember,” Chuck says evenly, “you’re supposed to be learning a lesson.” And he stops abruptly, pulls his hands away.

“Hah!” Mike _ knew _ this was going to happen, but that doesn’t make it any less frustrating as the feeling dies down, out of reach again. Mike takes a few deep breaths, trying not to writhe around too much. He can handle this.

“Look at you,” Chuck says, “being good for me, for once,” and Mike feels a heady thrill of something like pleasure, even without Chuck’s hand on him.

Chuck keeps teasing him, getting him close a few more times, until Mike is practically incoherent, panting and gasping and begging, more because he knows Chuck likes to hear it than because he thinks it’ll do him any good. He’s catching his breath when Chuck sits back on his heels again, looks him over thoughtfully.

“You think you’d come if I fucked you? Without touching your dick?” Chuck says, considering. Mike whines. Chuck sounds like he’s talking about a _ programming _ problem, how does he _ do _that?

“I… hhh… I don’t know?” Mike says. He really isn’t sure, but _ god _he wants to find out.

“Let’s try it, then,” Chuck says, reaching forward and slowly but unceremoniously pulling the plug out. Mike gasps as it leaves him empty.

“But,” Chuck says severely, holding up the slick plug, “if you come without _ permission _I’m going to put this back in tomorrow morning and make you wear it to breakfast.”

“Fffff,” Mike says, which is the closest he can get to swearing without running into his cadet conditioning. Chuck puts the plug aside and grabs a pillow off the headboard.

“Up,” he says, and Mike complies, lifting his hips and letting Chuck put the pillow under him, letting Chuck arrange him, pushing his legs apart. Chuck slicks his fingers with lube, rubs two of them behind Mike’s balls. Mike squirms.

“C’mon, dude, you already did the plug, I’m ready…”

Chuck stops. “You’re going to be patient and take what I give you,” he snaps, “or I’m going to go sit in that chair and read my book and not touch you for an _ hour. _”

Mike feels that like a punch to the gut. “N-no, please, I’ll be good,” he stutters. “Please, dude, okay, whatever you want.”

“Good,” Chuck says, and pushes his fingers in in one slick motion. He works Mike over slowly as Mike twitches, until he finally pulls back and pulls his fingers out, seeming satisfied. He wipes his hands on a towel he’s got near the side of the bed, starts unfastening his pants.

“Yeah, c’mon, f-f-f-_take _ me, I wanna feel you,” Mike begs as Chuck, unhurried, pulls his pants and underwear down enough to free his hard-on, gets the lube, and strokes himself a few times. He doesn’t bother with the rest of his clothes; he just pulls Mike’s hips forward on the pillow, kneeling between his legs, and lines himself up. He pulls one of Mike’s legs up over his shoulder, and Mike hooks the other leg around his waist.

“Tell me if you get close,” Chuck orders, and starts pushing in, and _ god, _ he’s so _ hot _like this, when he’s in control. Mike rides the edge of pleasure and pain as Chuck’s dick stretches him open, as Chuck sinks into him, a breathy moan finally breaking his cool composure. Chuck’s hands tighten on Mike’s thighs, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Then he starts to move.

“Ah! Ah!” Mike can’t help the small, choked sounds he’s making as Chuck thrusts into him, steady and rhythmic.

“Fuck,” Chuck says, eyes still closed, “you feel amazing,” and Mike moans. He wants to touch himself, wants to touch _Chuck, _can’t, struggles against the cuffs enough to make a rush of adrenaline electrify his body. He’s tantalizingly close to coming, but it’s not enough, he needs Chuck to touch him, and Chuck _won’t, _and he knows better than to ask. It feels so _good._ It’s _torture. _Chuck is thrusting steadily, but slowly, controlled, and Mike wants _more._

“C’_mon,” _ Mike urges, pulling Chuck into him with the leg wrapped around his waist, “that all you got? Wanna feel you come, let’s _ go!” _

“You,” Chuck says hoarsely, “are completely _ exasperating.” _ But he picks up the pace, biting his lip, letting himself thrust harder and faster, and _ yeah, _ that’s more like it.

“Yeah, c’mon, like that, nnn, god, just…” Mike takes a deep breath and pushes right through his conditioning. _ “Fuck _ me, f-fuck me hard!”

“Ah, fuck!” Chuck responds with a few more frantic thrusts and then he stiffens, snapping his hips forward. Mike feels the pulse of Chuck’s climax inside him and it almost—_almost_—makes him come. He doesn’t let Chuck’s high moan push him over, he has to obey, he wants to be good. Chuck shudders into him, hands convulsing on his thighs, and Mike sucks in a deep breath and _ takes _ it.

Mike comes back from the edge slowly, heart pounding in his chest, breathing hard. He feels a little light-headed. Chuck is bowed over him, panting, hair hanging loose around his shoulders, clutching Mike’s thighs.

“God_damn,” _ Chuck says finally, voice still hoarse. He carefully pulls out, and Mike makes an undignified _ wanting _ noise. Chuck grabs the towel and cleans himself up a little, then looks Mike over appraisingly. He reaches out and lightly runs one finger up Mike’s hard-on.

“Look at you being so good,” he says, and Mike shivers. “You’re really close, aren’t you?” he asks, and Mike closes his eyes and nods, not quite trusting himself to speak

“I’m still not totally sure you’re getting it, though. What if,” Chuck says, and stops. Mike forces his eyes open, looks at him questioningly.

“What if I didn’t let you come until tomorrow. If I told you I was going to let you go, but you couldn’t touch yourself or get off until tomorrow morning, would you do it?”

Mike squeezes his eyes shut again. He almost, _ almost _opens his mouth, the safeword on the tip of his tongue. He bites it back.

He takes a deep breath, collects himself, and thinks about it for a long moment. Then he sets his jaw and says, “Yeah. I’d do it for you. Yeah.”

There’s a silence. Mike waits, still. Then he feels Chuck brush his bangs off his forehead.

“Good,” Chuck says softly. “You’re so good for me. I know you’d do it. But I don’t need to see it, not this time. Just you being willing is enough. You’re so good.”

Mike whimpers as Chuck’s hand trails down his neck, his chest, brushing a nipple in passing. “You’ve handled everything so beautifully for me,” Chuck says gently. “I think you’ve learned your lesson. And you were willing to do even more. You deserve something for that.”

Chuck kisses his neck, then his chest, and keeps going, slowly working his way down Mike’s stomach.

“Hah?” Mike says, half in shock, as Chuck nuzzles at his dick, breathes on the tip, lips ghosting over it.

“Come in my mouth,” Chuck says, commanding, and _ swallows _ him in one smooth motion.

Mike bites his lip hard to stop himself from screaming, but it’s a close thing. He tenses, trembling helplessly, every nerve on fire, as Chuck sucks him. He lifts his head, looks down. Chuck is looking up at him, watching him, blue eyes warm, mouth hot and wet and tight around him, and without breaking eye contact, he reaches up Mike’s chest and pinches his nipple _ hard. _

The orgasm crashes into Mike like a car into a telephone pole, destroying his ability to think, or to form words, or to keep himself from screaming. He grips the chains of the cuffs as he careens over the edge, throwing his head back with a full-throated _ howl, _ tremors shaking his body, and Chuck doesn’t stop for a long time, swallowing around him as he shudders.

Chuck eases him through the aftershocks, hands gently stroking his sides, letting him come down slowly. When Mike has stopped shaking so hard, Chuck pulls himself up Mike’s body and kisses him, open-mouthed and sloppy. Mike is barely coherent enough to kiss back. He can hardly do anything but breathe. Chuck sits up, gently unfastens the cuffs from Mike’s wrists. Everything goes hazy and soft-edged as Chuck pulls a blanket up over him. “I’ll be right back, you good?” Chuck asks, and Mike nods sleepily. He hears Chuck pad softly across the room, open the door, and go across the hall, and Mike almost dozes off waiting for him.

“Hey. Drink this.” Chuck is back, pushing a glass of water into his hands. Mike drinks it clumsily, passes the glass back to Chuck. Chuck puts it on his filing cabinet, strips his jeans off, grabs something from the side of the bed, and nestles up next to Mike’s chest. Mike puts an arm around him, buries his face in the top of Chuck’s head for a long moment. He looks up when Chuck raises the thing he grabbed to eye-level. It’s the book. Chuck flips through it a little, stops at a highlighted passage.

“‘The work of dominance,” he reads softly, “‘is inspiring submission. Dominating someone means leading them to feel safe enough, connected enough, respectful enough to say ‘yes’ to your control. Doms don’t _ make _ their partners submit; they create the _ opportunity _ for them to submit.’” He stops, looks up at Mike. “Does that. Um. Sound right to you.”

Mike looks down into Chuck’s concerned eyes. His heart flips around in his chest. “Oh,” he says softly. “Yeah… that… yeah.” He wraps his arm around Chuck, squeezes him a little. “You don’t… you don’t put up with my shh. My stuff.” His throat is a little tight. For some reason, this is difficult to say. “But you don’t just _ expect _ respect. You _ earn _it. I can… trust you.”

“Good,” Chuck says. He taps Mike in the chest with the book. “You should read this. There’s a bunch of good stuff in here.”

_ “Ugh,” _ Mike says, throwing his arm over his face, “really? You, like, read the whole thing to me already.”

Chuck narrows his eyes.

“You’ll read it by the end of the week,” he says, “or I’m going to make what I just did to you look _ easy.” _

Mike can’t decide whether the thrill in his gut is coming from a desire to _ obey _ or a desire to be punished for _ failing_. It’s all muddled up in his head. Maybe he _ should _ read the book.

“Yes, _ sir,” _ he says, and he means it to be half-joking, but it comes out pretty crisply. Chuck gives him a startled look, turning pink.

“I could get used to hearing that from you,” he says, burying his face in Mike’s chest.

“Uh,” Mike says. “Yeah. Well. I could. Call you that.”

“Read the book,” Chuck says into his chest. “Let’s talk about it after.” Chuck puts the book down on Mike’s other side, wraps his arms around him, and settles into him, his weight a long, heavy warmth against Mike’s side, solid and comforting.

“Sorry,” Mike says eventually.

“What for?” Chuck says, looking up at him.

“You know. Being dumb. Jumping off that building onto that bot.”

Chuck shakes his head. “You made the right call. I just wish you’d given me some _ warning. _ I was just… God. I was so scared you were gonna fall off. You were almost ten stories up.”

“I coulda handled it.”

“We don’t _ know _ that, we haven’t stress-tested your femur reinforcements, or _ anything _ really…”

Mike smirks. “You’ve stress-tested my…”

“Oh my god, shut _ up,” _ Chuck interrupts. “Just promise me you’ll give me a heads-up from now on, okay? Even if you think I’ll fight you about it. I’ll try not to second-guess you. If I need to fight you about it… I’ll save it for later.”

“Wow,” Mike says, smiling, “almost makes me want to do more dumb stuff.”

Chuck vengefully twists one of Mike’s nipples and Mike yelps. “I will seriously make you wait a _ whole week,” _ he says. “I’ll give you the worst case of blue balls Motorcity has ever seen. It’ll be _ legendary.” _

Mike pulls him closer. “That’s fair,” he says cheerfully, and Chuck snickers. Chuck turns his face up to Mike’s and they kiss for a long time, until they fall asleep, cradled in the darkness of their city, safe for one more night.

**Author's Note:**

> The excerpts from “The Art of Domination: A Beginner’s Guide” were adapted from articles on www.domsubliving.com and from the real book “The Heart of Dominance: A Guide to Practicing Consensual Dominance” by Anton Fulmen. Thanks to Tyxeros for the beta and to LaughingStones for early troubleshooting.


End file.
